


Like a Virgin

by cant



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:24:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10020689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cant/pseuds/cant
Summary: this is a fandomless thing I wrote 4 my buddy bc why not





	

“You don’t think I’m a whore, do you?” she asked, her voice like magic to his ears. She knew it was, especially when she put on that breathy, sultry tone that she was sure only he had heard. He couldn’t resist. 

It was evil of her, she thought sometimes. A god-fearing man like himself should resist temptation, but what if temptation came in the form of understanding and light? She was so gentle with him, he couldn’t possibly resist sometimes. 

Lead us not into temptation. He would quote it sometimes, under his breath, just repeating some random snippets of the Lord’s prayer over dinner, only seducing her more with a chocolate voice. She couldn’t possibly resist her own temptation when it came in the form of this dark-skinned, beautiful devil of a man. They were both at fault, really. 

“No, ma’am,” he said politely, letting her put a hand on his arm as they took shelter from the midday heat in her humble cottage that smelt of spices and dust. The shade hit them together, a moist, lazy day turning cool and safe. 

“Well, bless you, child,” she said, reaching up on bare tiptoes to take his hat and hang it up. It looked so battered and worn whenever he took it off, like his presence was the only thing holding it together. She should really control herself, but she had to run her fingers over his short hair. She removed his sunglasses gently, balancing them on the hat. “Your eyes are beautiful.” 

“I have to disagree,” he chuckled, one milky blue eye searching through vague patches of light and dark to see her. Still, in her eyes, perfect. His left pierced through her in that way that scared most folk but left her breathless. “I’m missin’ a piece.” 

“Oh, hush, you,” she laughed, reaching up again to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. His gaze dropped slightly, resting at her mouth. “Won’t you play me somethin’ later? I can make dinner. It’s gonna be a beautiful evening; I can feel it.” 

“Sure,” he agreed softly. “My pleasure.” 

A moment of quiet passed between them, standing too close in this lonely little house. He contrasted her so harshly, this mysterious man dressed all in black with a warm, resonating voice like wood. She truly believed he was ancient, because no man had eyes that old. 

“I’m sorry for ramblin’,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.” 

“Don’t apologise,” he said. She could have sworn she melted a little inside. 

He took off heavy boots and lined them up by the door. 

She couldn’t control herself any longer. The moment he turned around was the same moment she stood on tiptoes again - this time she caught his lips with hers. It only took a second, but she couldn’t help it. He couldn’t either. The cool shade of the house was pushed aside for glowing heat as she fumbled with his shirt buttons, pulling aside sweat-dampened fabric for access to skin darker than tobacco. 

He was much stronger than her and nothing made that more obvious than when he lifted her effortlessly by the waist with sturdy hands and placed her on the table, hips already pressing to hers to desperately find some relief. She knew he ached for her - something dark in her relished that, but it was exclusive and right. Even as she fumbled with a belt buckle and stretched her legs apart a little wider, nothing was wrong. It was still perfect even when he gently played over her most sensitive nerves, leaving her buzzing. 

A kiss swallowed her breathy groans as he held onto her thighs and pushed, finally filling her with nothing but heat and love. She had to grip his shoulder with a shaking hand, tearing away from the kiss to bite her lip and rest her forehead against his. She felt the look on her face. It was almost evil, willing him to push her harder, to take them right over the edge. 

It triggered something in him. Before she could think she was clutching him closer, heat and desperate lust clouding her judgement as she balanced precariously on the edge of the table. She had to reach back and hold on to something but hit the edge of her sewing box. Though she winced when she heard it clatter to the ground, no doubt scattering thread everywhere, there was no time to think about it as the end dawned on the horizon. Her breathy moans and soft panting only quickened when his pace slowed a fraction, hitching her loose dress higher and higher until he could hold onto her soft body and squeeze. 

He seemed to hit some heavenly spot inside her because she saw nothing but stars in her wooden ceiling when he pushed harder into her. She might have thought this was what Heaven itself was like, this feeling that washed through her whole body when he was inside her. Even though he was the Devil and every other person in the world might have said this was wrong, they both know they were right. 

Her back tensed as she got closer and closer, tension racking up tenfold when he let her fall but didn’t let her hit the table, somehow keeping her safe even when he was filling her over and over, harder each time. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders and left her completely bare in front of him, laid out like a sacrificial virgin - though she was anything but. His hands gripped at her, squeezed, and pulled her with him as she felt herself melt around him. It only took another roll of her hips or a brush of his fingertips. 

One, two more final efforts and she was in bliss, eyes fluttering back, mouth open in a breathy groan and fingers clutching at his to desperately hold his hand. The tension left her body in a rush as a voice like molasses reassured her and let out sultry noises she never wanted anyone else to hear. 

The grip she had on his hand tightened minutely, a little squeeze to let him know she was still alive and twitching on the table. She let him go with a sigh, sure that the heat inside the cottage was the same as outside. 

“As I was saying,” she breathed, letting him pull her dress back down with gentle kisses leading the way, “I’m gonna make some pie.”


End file.
